


Dismissal

by dynastic



Category: Prince of Tennis
Genre: Detective AU, Drugs, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Prostitutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-02
Updated: 2008-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dynastic/pseuds/dynastic
Summary: On the verge of losing his job, Mizuki embarks on one last assignment to save himself.
Relationships: Fuji Yuuta/Mizuki Hajime





	Dismissal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](https://redmoonmurder.livejournal.com/profile)[redmoonmurder](https://redmoonmurder.livejournal.com/) for the [](https://strudy-exchange.livejournal.com/profile)[strudy_exchange](https://strudy-exchange.livejournal.com/). I'm not entirely sure how to describe this but it's not very dark, and it's full of crack. I enjoyed writing it, though.

_Crash!_

_"Shit! Shit!"_

Mizuki ears perked up, poking his head out from behind his computer monitor. "Oh, what now?" he grumbled quietly, eyes narrowing at the deterrent noises coming from the hallway.

"Yuuta-kun, if that's you, you should learn to be quieter," Mizuki called out, standing up from his chair.

"Sorry, Mizuki-san," Yuuta said apologetically as he popped his head inside the office.

"Don't be sorry. Just be more careful," Mizuki sniffed, glancing over at Yuuta.

"I have the reports you wanted." Yuuta approached the large desk, and placed the neat stack of papers onto the desk.

"Thank you," Mizuki said, sitting back down in his desk chair again. "Anything else?" He asked as he took the stack of papers and began to leaf through them.

Yuuta looked down at him, hesitating on something. "There's something else…"

Mizuki blinked and glanced up at him, none too amused by the hesitation. "Well, tell me. What else is there, Yuuta-kun?"

Sighing, Yuuta pulled a note out of his pocket. "Akazawa-san wanted me to give you this," he said as he handed the note to Mizuki.

"It'd better not be another love-y dove-y note asking me out on another date again," Mizuki murmured in annoyance as he took the note from Yuuta.

"I don't think it's another one of those, Mizuki-san," Yuuta said quietly.

"I hope it's not. Akazawa has dreadful hair and a bad sense of style. It's already bad enough that he's my boss," Mizuki sighed sadly, as he leaned back in his chair.

"He's my boss, too," Yuuta said, watching Mizuki idly.

"Is that all, Yuuta-kun?" Mizuki drawled, eyeing him curiously.

"Ah, yes. See you later, Mizuki-san." Yuuta nodded as he bowed himself from the office.

Mizuki watched his office door slam shut, and he sighed again. "Silly Yuuta-kun," he grumbled as he fiddled with the small, golden ring on his left hand.

Certainly, Yuuta was not a terrible investigator, Mizuki knew, but he was not up to par, either. Although, Mizuki thought, with a little training and discipline from him, Yuuta could probably become a decent investigator. Oh, and one could not ignore Yuuta's attractiveness, either. Those big, innocent, grey eyes made Mizuki want to get Yuuta down on his knees and beg for it hard and rough.

Mizuki sighed, idly glancing out the dirt-streaked window while he pulled open one of his desk drawers, and produced a nail file. Beginning to file his already perfect nails, Mizuki closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

Only in his dreams, only in his dreams.

\+ + +

"You're _what_?" Mizuki asked incredulously, his palms slamming down onto the desk. "You're f-firing _me_? H-How dare you!"

Akazawa sighed, leaning back in his comfortable desk chair. "We're not 'firing' you, Mizuki. We are 'letting you go.' There's a difference."

"Difference my ass!" Mizuki screeched, bearing down at Akazawa. "You can't fire me! I'm your best investigator, and you know it!" He glared hard at him.

Intimidated, Akazawa was not. "Mizuki, you're not _the best investigator_ in force. Stop exaggerating."

Mizuki's fingers curled into fists. "Akazawa, you don't get it. You cannot fire me. It's a decision you'll live to regret."

"My decision is final, Mizuki. I'm letting you go after next Friday," Akazawa said, totally unfazed by Mizuki's mercifulness.

"You know, I'm supposed to keep this job until I decide to retire to Hawaii after my children have moved out of my house," Mizuki grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"You don't have any children," Akazawa replied dully, raising his eyebrows. "Not to mention, you're not even married -- despite the fact that you wear what appears to be a gold wedding ring."

"That's not the point!" Mizuki snapped at him. "And it's not a gold wedding ring; it's a family heirloom, and my father gave it to me when I turned sixteen years old."

Akazawa groaned inwardly. "Mizuki…"

"Don't 'Mizuki' me, Akazawa Yoshirou. I've known you and I played tennis together, and I know exactly how you work!" Mizuki unfolded his arms, and stared hard at his boss.

"Mizuki…" Akazawa began again, feeling rather annoyed now. "If you weren't acting so childish about this, perhaps--"

Mizuki narrowed his eyes at Akazawa. "Perhaps, what? Hmm?"

"If you stopped interrupting me, perhaps I would get to finish, thank you very damn much," Akazawa exasperated, beginning to feel his blood boil a little.

"As I was saying, if you weren't acting so childish about this, I could have considered giving you one last chance," he finished.

"One last chance? What did I ever do wrong to begin with, Akazawa?" Mizuki leaned down closer to him, bringing his face within inches of Akazawa's face.

"First, you send me this goofy note, tell me to meet you in your office in half hour, I go to talk to you, you tell me that you're firing me for no apparent reason, and now you want to give me one last chance to keep my job?! You make absolutely no sense to me, and I don't think you ever have, Akazawa Yoshirou!" Mizuki huffed. His cheeks puffed out and turned a lurid shade of crimson.

Akazawa flinched, and then took a deep breath. Leave it to Mizuki to take things completely over the top.

"Mizuki," he began calmly, "I think you should sit down, and just listen to--"

"Fine," Mizuki sighed dramatically as he sat down in one of the chairs in front of Akazawa's desk. "You may continue," he said, crossing his legs.

"Okay…" Akazawa cleared his throat as he tried to sound half-way professional. "Mizuki, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to give you another chance. Technically, it was not my decision to fire you. You'd need to speak to the supervisor, Genki-san--"

"I know who Genki-san is," Mizuki interrupted, his blue eyes focused heavily on Akazawa.

"Right." Akazawa glared back at him. "Anyway, I'm going to send you on one last assignment -- is that okay with you?" he asked slowly in a sort of mocking type way.

Mizuki was not looking at Akazawa's face, though. Instead, his eyes gazed lower at Akazawa's tie, of all things. "Your tie -- it's -- it's really hideous," he said, totally horrified.

Akazawa stared long and hard at him. "Mizuki. We can discuss my fashion choices later."

"Fine, fine." Mizuki waved a hand and sighed again. "Continue if you must."

"I hope you haven't forgotten that _your career_ is at stake," Akazawa reminded him, leaning back in his chair again. "Now, I am willing to send you on one last assignment -- do you accept?"

Mizuki's eyes narrowed at Akazawa, studying him suspiciously. "This assignment had better be a decent one," he murmured apprehensively.

"It will be -- I assure you," Akazawa said. "Now, you will need a partner for this one--"

Mizuki groaned inwardly. "Please, please don't give me Yanagisawa," he whined.

Akazawa rolled his eyes. "And why not? I can assign you to work with anyone I find suitable for the job."

Sighing, Mizuki said, "Yanagisawa-san spends five hours a day looking at porn on his computer. Do you _really_ want someone like _that_ working with _moi_? I think not, Akazawa."

"You don't have proof of that, Mizuki. I know you're just saying--"

"I have proof. What kind of investigator do you think I am?" Mizuki raised an eyebrow, his voice growing louder yet again.

Akazawa heaved a sigh. "You're an investigator that's going to get fired if you don't step it up."

"Step it up? I've always been _two steps ahead_ of everyone else, thank you very much," Mizuki said, folding his arms over his chest.

Rubbing his temples, Akazawa looked up at Mizuki, and said, "Look it, Mizuki. Just do this last, measly assignment and then we'll negotiate about it." He paused. "Clear?"

" _Crystal_ ," Mizuki answered, a slight remark of triumph resounding in his voice.

\+ + +

Yanagisawa's office sat two doors down from Mizuki's office. It had the same furniture setup as Mizuki's office -- aside from the lack of frilly, flowery décor -- and smelled vaguely like udon noodles since they were Yanagisawa's lunch of choice each day.

Usually, Yanagisawa sat in his comfortable, black desk chair and browsed the internet with a bowl of udon noodles in his lap during his office hours. It was like heaven, really.

Today was no different, of course. Sitting quietly in his chair, Yanagisawa hummed and slurped up his noodles in between computer mouse clicks.

On his computer screen, however, there was an interesting, rather erotic sight to beheld -- one of Yanagisawa's favorites -- and a clearly inappropriate sight for anyone working in a law enforcement office.

Nevertheless, Yanagisawa's eyes glazed over the image on his screen, completely unawares of the newcomer standing two feet from his desk.

"Yanagisawa-san," Mizuki coughed. He had one hand on his hips and a paper in his other hand. "I assume you were informed--"

"Da ne?!" Yanagisawa's eyes widened when Mizuki spoke, jumping out of his seat and spilling his noodles all over his lap

"Oww! Hot! Hot!" he yelped as he stood up and dumped his sodden lunch from his lap and onto the floor.

Mizuki's lip twitched. He was not sure whether to laugh in amusement or grumble in annoyance. Both were equally rude either way, and though Yanagisawa was not desirable company most of the time, Mizuki felt it wrong to act impolite.

"I'm sorry, Mizuki-san, da ne," Yanagisawa said, now underneath his desk as he attempted to clean up the mess. "I'll be just a minute. I think, da ne."

Sighing, Mizuki shifted his weight and watched in disgust as his co-worked cleaned up the soupy, noodle mess.

"Take your time -- no really," Mizuki said sarcastically.

"I will --" _Crash._ "-- Ouch! Fuck, da ne!"

There was a whimper and the sound of the slamming of a desk drawer.

Mizuki snorted with laughter. If anything, he thought, Yanagisawa was good for a laugh.

A moment later, Yanagisawa's head popped up from behind the desk. "Okay, I'm good, da ne," he said, tossing the empty, plastic bowl and soggy paper towels into the wastebasket beside the desk.

"What can I do for you, Mizuki-san, da ne?" he asked, climbing into his desk chair again.

"We're been assigned to work together," Mizuki told him dully, handing over the small packet of papers in his hand to him. "All of the information you will need is in that packet."

Yanagisawa glanced apprehensively at Mizuki. "We're working together, da ne?"

"That would be correct," Mizuki answered.

Flipping through the packet of information, Yanagisawa hummed and tapped his foot against the floor.

Mizuki stood quietly in front of his desk, waiting impatiently. This should have only taken five minutes, he thought to himself.

"Hmm." Yanagisawa looked up at him. "I'm afraid I can't do this assignment, da ne."

"What?" Mizuki had not been looking at him, but instead, he had been looking out the window. "What did you say?" he asked, glancing down at Yanagisawa.

"I can't do this assignment, da ne," Yanagisawa repeated. "I just arranged to take time off from work, da ne… My old man broke his hip, and he is in the hospital. I need to go see him, da ne."

"When?"

"Starting tomorrow, da ne."

Mizuki sighed. "Fair enough. I'll have to see Akazawa about finding a new partner."

Yanagisawa handed back the stack of papers to Mizuki, and leaned back in his chair. "Sorry, Mizuki-san, da ne…"

"It's not a problem," Mizuki told him, turning around to leave. "Thank you for your time."

"Don't mention it, da ne," Yanagisawa chirped as the door slammed shut.

And really, it was not a problem, for Mizuki knew someone else who could successfully replace Yanagisawa, and it was a certain someone whom he had no qualms working with at all.

\+ + +

Fortunately, for Mizuki, Yuuta was more than willing to work with him. He had to pull a few strings, and Akazawa did not oblige easily. However, Akazawa's reluctance, Mizuki thought, was due to Mizuki rejection to Akazawa's most recent date proposal. As flattering as Akazawa's date proposals were, over the years, Mizuki never accepted them, and Akazawa continued to ask him out. Repeatedly.

Except for the tenth date proposal in their senior year of middle school when Akazawa got on the school's P.A. system, announced his love for him, and then asked him to come to the Winter Festival with him.

Mizuki did not like to talk about that time. Ever.

Still, since Yuuta became his partner, things were looking up for Mizuki. There was hope, Mizuki knew, and maybe he would not lose his job altogether when push came to shove, and he stood at the top of his game again.

Tugging his black coat closer, Mizuki pushed open the door to the bar where he told Yuuta to meet him. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and sweat hit him hard, and he coughed into his hand.

"Nasty," he murmured, looking up and scanning the area for Yuuta. Craning his neck, he spotted Yuuta sitting at one of the high tables near the back. Picking up his walking speed, he made his way over to Yuuta, and sat down across from him.

"Yuuta-kun," Mizuki said, pulling off his expensive sunglasses -- why he was wearing them now was beyond anyone's guess since it was nighttime -- and looked at Yuuta.

Yuuta coughed. "Mizuki-san."

"Did you read everything over?" Mizuki asked, leaning forward.

"Yes, I did," Yuuta answered, leaning forward, too. He could feel Mizuki's hot breath touch his cheeks.

"You know where we're going then?" Mizuki questioned. He twirled a lock of hair with a finger on his right hand and then rested his other hand on the table.

"Yes, the shoe warehouses by the pier," Yuuta answered, noticing the small, golden ring on Mizuki's left hand.

"Good, good," Mizuki assessed, nodding at Yuuta. "As for what we're looking for…"

"Narcotics," Yuuta said simply, grinning a little.

"We should get going then. We have a long night ahead of us, you know."

"Ah, I know. Akazawa-san informed me, and he said this should only take two days," Yuuta said before draining his glass of water.

"Akazawa _-san_ doesn't know how I work. This'll take one night, and that's tonight," Mizuki said promptly, firmly. He grabbed his sunglasses and put them back on.

Yuuta nodded. "Oh."

"Let's go," Mizuki ordered, getting up from his seat with a flourish of his long, black coat.

Yuuta followed him, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on. He tried not to look at the rest of the bar's occupants, and instead, he focused on Mizuki's back.

Mizuki opened the door for them, waiting a moment for Yuuta to catch up to him. He took in the surroundings, his eyes scanning over the dim, muddy streets. Then he inhaled deeply; the city smelled musty and dirty.

_It was going to be a long, long night._

\+ + +

Mizuki Hajime learned to love the nighttime -- the damp, cool air; the bright, neon nights; the leagues of different people who came alive after sunset -- everything about the nighttime was beautiful to him. When one worked mostly in the dark, one learned to appreciate it. Even if nighttime brought about things that were not so nice.

Yet, he had not always loved the nighttime. As a child, he had been afraid of the dark, and feared that the monsters would come after him while he slept. He had had a nightlight inside his bedroom until he was almost twelve years old, and even when he went off to live at St. Rudolph, he brought the nightlight with him. It had been his comfort since he had felt homesick during the first two months away from home.

Then he learned to grow up, and promptly put the nightlight away inside his closet, bid his roommate to never, ever speak about it, and continued on with his life.

During his early years working for the police enforcements, he worked late at night at the office, since nobody else would, and he was the "department dog" at the time. Hell, nobody even worked harder than he did when he was the "department dog," and they did not promote him until five years later when they finally figured out that he had been the one single handedly solving all those cases and making five o'clock in the morning trips to the nearest Starbucks.

Mizuki had endured the grunt work for years, and now, he veered in the direction losing the job he had worked so hard to get.

Pulling his black coat closer, Mizuki shivering against the cool, dusty evening air. They were several blocks from their destination -- the tennis shoe factory warehouses by the pier -- and it was almost eight o'clock. The night would begin to move soon.

"Yuuta-kun," Mizuki said, turning a dark corner and yanking off his sunglasses. He could only wear the damn things at night for so long, no matter how cool they made him look.

"Yeah?" Yuuta looked over at him.

"We're about seven blocks away," Mizuki told him, slipping his sunglasses into his coat pocket.

"I know, Mizuki-san," Yuuta replied.

"Don't sass me," Mizuki said sharply, raising an eyebrow at his partner.

"I'm not sassing you." Yuuta cleared his throat and looked sidelong at Mizuki. "I've lived here most of my life, Mizuki-san. I know where places are, okay."

Mizuki sighed, looking forward again. He spotted two half-naked figures skirt into an alleyway. "Ladies of the night," he murmured, snorting a little.

"Prostitutes?" Yuuta asked, directing his gaze to where Mizuki was looking.

Mizuki nodded. "Yes."

"Should we arrest them?" Yuuta craned his neck, trying to see down the alleyway.

"No," Mizuki said quietly. "They're just doing their part."

Yuuta paused mid-step, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"By having them work the streets at night, they're keeping things regulated," Mizuki said, continuing to walk down the dim sidewalk. "Cracking down on the hookers changes everything. Without them, we would have no leads and we would have nothing to work with, really. How else do you think we find these drug lords?"

"Sheer luck?" Yuuta offered with a slight grin on his face.

Mizuki looked over at him and laughed. He was not sure if Yuuta was serious or not.

"I'm not Sengoku," Mizuki snorted as he turned down another corner. "Though," he began, "I guess luck factors into it."

Mizuki shoved his hands into his pockets and sniffed. Walking through the shadowy streets made him feel dangerous again like the old days after he became an investigator and worked at night undercover. Yet, walking down the street felt different with Yuuta, though. He had always worked alone in those days, slinking through back alleyways, watching drug deals, chatting up the prostitutes, and checking out the bars and taverns.

Certainly, Yuuta was an attractive person, and Mizuki felt attracted to him. Mizuki imagined they'd hook up eventually -- maybe a fuck at a love hotel every once in awhile, a few drinks at the local bar, lunch at some café, a little bit of whatever they felt like doing, really. Mizuki would not oppose to any of that, of course. Yuuta looked muscled from some sort of sport; rough as if he would throw you around during sex; and Mizuki wondered where the cross-shaped scar on the side of his head came from the moment he met Yuuta.

It did not really matter to Mizuki, really.

What did matter stood another four blocks from them and hid under the covenant of darkness.

\+ + +

The pier smelled like fish.

Mizuki covered his nose with his palm and ducked his head a little. He had never liked the smell of the pier; possibly too much fish stink for him to handle.

"What a stench," he murmured to Yuuta.

Yuuta nodded, covering his own nose, too.

The pier was dark, too. Only a few overhead lamps lit the place, and it looked completely deserted. They rounded a row of warehouses labeled _Atobe Tennis Shoe Factory_ in peeling, white paint.

"Which warehouse number is it?" Yuuta asked, glancing over at Mizuki.

"The report said between warehouse numbers nine and seventeen," Mizuki answered, scanning the warehouse numbers. "I've deducted that the right warehouse is warehouse number fourteen, though."

"Why fourteen?" Yuuta tilted his head curiously at Mizuki. He would read into the reports, but he did not have much of a chance to do a whole lot of analysis.

"I've got a hunch about it," Mizuki said. "Now, shush."

Yuuta wanted to doubt Mizuki, but he knew better than not to trust him. After all, it was not as if they came on a night where people would use the warehouse, and they would stick out like sore thumbs among the crowd. If they were not caught first, of course.

Creeping close to the walls of the warehouses on the left side, Mizuki stayed close to Yuuta, and looked for the number fourteen.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, _fourteen_.

Yuuta stopped. "This is it," he mumbled. He started to head for the side door.

"Wait," Mizuki muttered to him, waving a hand at him. He pulled something out of his pocket and then looked around, keeping the object at his side.

"I'll go first," Mizuki said, walking farther up. "Follow behind me."

Yuuta nodded, resting his palm on the spot on his coat that covered his gun holster. Nobody had given him his own gun before, and he felt nervous having one on his person. It felt like a rock against his side, and he wanted to pull it out from its holster, but Mizuki had not given him the go-ahead sign yet.

Clearing his throat, Yuuta followed up behind Mizuki.

Mizuki steadied his breathing, and studied the warehouse door dead bolt lock. Beside the door was a security system box. Using his free hand, he shoved it into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Bring it to his face, he squinted at the scrawled handwriting on it, and approached the door.

Glancing behind at Yuuta once, Mizuki cautiously entered the seven-digit code into the keypad. Mizuki heard a click; his lips twitched into a tiny grin. Putting the piece of paper back into his pocket, he reached for the door handle, and turned it slowly.

Yuuta watched Mizuki like his life depended on it. He bit his lip, and tried to stay alert. The pier appeared to be deserted, but in the cover of darkness, who knew what lurked behind the corners?

Wait, Yuuta thought, he was a cop, and cops had to be brave, right?

Right.

Pushing the door open with a creak of the handle, Mizuki peeked inside the room cautiously, waiting for any signs of danger. Sliding inside, Mizuki squinted into the darkness, trying to make out any signs of movement. Glancing back at Yuuta, he nodded for him to follow him.

Mizuki wrinkled his nose. The inside of the warehouse smelled of fish and rubber, and it was dark. He could hear the dripping of a leaky water pipe, and the calm, outside wind battering against the structure. He took a deep breath, and stepped past the doorway.

Outside, the full moon shone against the ocean's crashing waves.

\+ + +

The clock struck midnight, and there was nothing. They had found absolutely nothing inside the warehouse.

No illegal narcotics, no money, no anything.

Shoes filled all of the boxes not bricks of cocaine or bags of heroin -- just hundreds upon hundreds of boxes filled with shoes.

Mizuki felt disappointed, certainly. Perhaps, he had calculated wrong, and the narcotics were in another warehouse. There were seventeen other warehouses, and they had all night to find them; it would not take a horribly long time to find them, no.

No, Mizuki would not give up. Giving up was for losers, and he was no loser. He had the intelligent, persuasive personality that kept him going through the rough. He and Yuuta would search every warehouse until they found what they had been looking for, and

"Yuuta-kun," Mizuki said irritably as he slid his gun back into his holster. "Let's try the next warehouse."

Yuuta looked over at him. Indeed, he felt disappointed, too. He had had a little faith in Mizuki's hunch, and he still had faith in him. Unfortunately, it was also midnight, and he felt sleepy beyond all reason.

"Are you sure, Mizuki-san?" Yuuta asked him, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Of course I'm sure," Mizuki snapped. "We need to find the narcotics." He huffed a little, kicking at the ground. "I'll stay out all night until we find them."

"I guess so," Yuuta answered, sighing a little.

"Well, don't sound so unsure, Yuuta-kun," Mizuki said sarcastically. "You don't have to come with me."

"I'm just disappointed, okay?" Yuuta murmured, looking away from him.

Mizuki frowned. "There's no time for disappointment. We have to find what we're looking for soon."

Yuuta studied Mizuki, hesitating to answer him.

"Let's just go," Yuuta said finally as he stifled another yawn.

Nodding, Mizuki started past him, weaving over to the next warehouse - warehouse number fifteen. "Over here, Yuuta-kun."

Yuuta followed him, his legs feeling weak from kneeling among the boxes inside the warehouse for the past four hours.

Mizuki had already broken into the warehouse by the time Yuuta reached him.

"I think I might have found something," he called out to Yuuta from the darkness within the building. "Back me up, will you?"

"Got it," Yuuta said, creeping inside the building after him. He heard some shuffling and something falling over followed by a muttered "fuck!"

"Are you okay, Mizuki-san?" Yuuta asked, wincing a little.

"My leg kind of hurts but I think I'm good," Mizuki said.

Yuuta heard another crash and another "fuck!"

"Shit, what's going on?" Yuuta called out, taking another cautious step into the dim building.

"I think I found it!" Mizuki yelled from about ten feet away. He leg hurt like a motherfucker, but he could _smell_ the bricks of cocaine from two feet away.

"Give me some light!" Mizuki called out to Yuuta, edging himself closer to the open boxes.

Yuuta fumbled for the mini flashlight inside his coat pocket. "Er, hang on," he said as his fingers felt for the on and off switch.

There was a small, blinding burst of light.  
Mizuki blinked a few times. Then his eyes lit up when he realized what sat beside him - glorious, white powder packed together into thick, little bricks - and he grinned like a maniac.

"There's no way Genki-san will let me go now!"

\+ + +

The next Friday rolled around, and Mizuki sat inside his cozy, little office. After successfully finding the illegal narcotics and the money earned from selling said illegal narcotics, he had not heard a peep from Akazawa or anyone else about his dismissal.

Yeah, Mizuki thought, he would not be hearing from Akazawa or Genki-san or anyone else about dismissing him any time soon. Thinking about his own cleverness made him grin, and he twirled a lock of his shiny, black hair in mirth.

Sighing in content, Mizuki leaned back in his desk chair, closed his eyes, and imagined what kind of praise he would receive after Akazawa called him to his office, which would probably occur in about fifteen minutes.

_"You did well, Mizuki. I suppose I won't have to sack you quite yet."_

_"All in a day's work, Akazawa. Really, it couldn't have been easier."_

_"Oh, no, no. I think the assignment seemed tough even for you."_

_"It was nothing I couldn't accomplish."_

_"You accomplished it beautifully, Mizuki… Mizuki… Mizuki."_

Mizuki wrinkled his nose; it would be nice if Akazawa could stop saying his name -- even though it was a very beautiful name -- and praise him more. Yes, praise his good deeds more and more…

"Mizuki-san. Mizuki-san, are you there?"

Mizuki's eyes fluttered opened, and he looked around. "Yes?"

"Mizuki-san." Yuuta stood in front of Mizuki's desk.

"Yuuta-kun," Mizuki sat up, removed the finger from his hair, and looked up at him. "How can I help you?"

Yuuta had his hands behind his back, and he looked a little nervous about something. "I have something to give to you."

"Okay. Give it to me then," Mizuki commanded, tilting his head in curiosity.

Yuuta took a deep breath and handed him a note. "Here. Er, you can read it now, I guess."

Mizuki raised an eyebrow and took the note. He unfolded it and read it to himself quietly. He felt his cheeks grow hot.

"A date, ah?" Mizuki asked, looking up at Yuuta. He shook his head, and chuckled a little. "It's rather forward of you, Yuuta-kun."

"You don't have to do if you don't want to!" Yuuta said abruptly. "I just thought I'd, you know, ask you anyway."

"Well, thankfully for you," Mizuki said, smiling faintly, "I will happily take you up on your offer. How does tonight sound?"

"Tonight is fine," Yuuta answered. He could not help but grin at Mizuki. "I'll meet you at Haruna's steakhouse at six o'clock."

"Sounds good. I'll see you then, Yuuta-kun," Mizuki replied, his blue eyes sparkling.

Yuuta nodded, and turned to leave. "See you later," he said as he headed for the door, glancing behind at Mizuki once before disappearing behind it.

Mizuki sighed again, shaking his head a little. "How cute," he said to himself. " _How cute._ "  
[](http://www.statcounter.com/)


End file.
